Johnny McGregor Broke My Computer
by Queen.Violet
Summary: Enrique is supposed to be working on a project, but something goes wrong with his computer. Who did it? Did anyone even do it? And will he ever stop procrastinating? Completely random and without plot. Dedicated to Demolition-GIRL-33236.
1. Johnny McGregor Broke My Computer

Well, I suppose this is **one** of your birthday presents my friend. But when I started writing this one, I realized that I might like to try something with some of _your_ favorite characters in it. This was purely me, having fun with Johnny being bad with technology and Enrique procrastinating.

Really, my conversations with you inspired it, so perhaps I should dedicate it to you instead? Hm.

On the plus side, it does manage to have some Harry Potter references, and a teensy bit of Twilight bashing.

I made it a two-shot, because it would have been an incredibly long one-shot...so please don't feel like you need to review to both chapters. :) Although I'm not going to stop you if you want to... XD

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade, or Microsoft Word. I simply own the plot (is there even one?), the notebook in which I wrote the story, and the pencil I wrote it with.

Enjoy!

* * *

Enrique Giancarlo absolutely hated schoolwork...and he especially hated it when he was supposed to be on vacation. He sighed as he lugged his laptop and literature book up the stairs, and then back down again. It was surprisingly hard to find a peaceful, yet comfortable spot to work on an essay. Either that, or he was procrastinating out of habit.

He was supposed to be enjoying a break from both school and training, but the second he had arrived at Robert's castle, his tutor had called him and told him that he was failing his English class. This led Enrique to briefly wonder who had given his tutor his phone number, and if that person wished to be punished.

As it turned out, the only way to pass his class was to write a five page essay—which now that he read the prompt actually sounded more like a story. You know, the ones that they make you write in school that have to teach a lesson? He was terrible at making up stories, especially when they had to teach a lesson. What was he supposed to do? Base the story off of a dream he'd had? Honestly.

Finally, the Italian settled on the small dining room that was located on one of the upper floors of the mansion. He and Oliver had waited in this room many times before until it was convenient for Robert to see them. Other than that, no one was ever in here and it was an altogether pointless room. At least it was quiet.

He plopped himself down at the far end of the table and turned on his laptop. He hoped that it would take an unusually long time today. It didn't. When it was finished, he opened his text book and turned the pages one by one until he got to page three hundred and ninety-four. He stared at the page for at least five minutes before reading it, and then reluctantly opening Microsoft Word.

Enrique played with the font style and size for a while, then re-read his assignment five or six more times. He was just considering getting Oliver to do the project for him when the door opened and the last person he wanted to see came into the room.

Johnny didn't bother to acknowledge the blond's presence in the dining room. He simply stretched himself out on the small red couch (A/N: Or is it a bench? Or perhaps a chair? A chaise lounge? Oh well.) near the double door entrance to the room. Once he had himself comfortably situated, he looked at the Italian on the other side of the room and saw that he was being glared at.

"What?"

"I'm trying to write a paper," Enrique said, as though this explained the glare.

"So? I'm not bothering you," Johnny defended himself.

"Yet."

"What's that supposed to mean?" the Scot questioned as innocently as possible.

"You know," the blue-eyed teen insisted.

"No, actually I don't, would you mind telling me?"

"Argh!" the Italian threw up his hands in frustration before slamming them back down on the table. "There you go..." he muttered.

"What? I just came in here to try and relax..." Johnny said, stretching. "I didn't know you were here."

"Couldn't you relax somewhere else?" Enrique asked.

"Couldn't you write your paper somewhere else?" Johnny countered.

Enrique sighed and grumbled to himself.

Johnny smirked, satisfied. The blond caught the smirk out of the corner of his eye.

"What's that face for?!" he snapped.

The Scotsman simply shrugged in reply.

"That's it..."

"What's it?" the redhead asked, once again feigning total innocence.

"I need a break," Enrique stated, standing and making his way to the door.

"What for? You haven't done any work!" Johnny pointed out as his teammate slammed the door behind him.

* * *

Enrique muttered obscenities to himself about his redheaded teammate as he strode purposefully down the hall. He had been surprisingly close to completely losing his temper and throwing his laptop at the Scot. Normally it was Johnny who started the whole physical violence thing...Enrique suspected that this assignment was stressing him out more than it should have been.

He was currently searching for Oliver—he figured his best friend might be able to cheer him up some. Or better yet, write the paper for him. He found the Frenchman in his art studio, not exactly busy, but not exactly doing nothing.

"What're you up to, Oli?" Enrique asked.

"Nothing much...just sort of working on a few pieces here and there," came the response. Oliver had managed to persuade Robert to let him turn this room into his own personal art studio, seeing as he spent a lot of his time in Germany. It wasn't as nice (or as big) as the one he had in France, but it would work. "What about you?"

"I've been trying to write that paper," the Italian answered, leaving out the important point that he _hadn't_ been trying. "It's not going so great for me, and I was wondering if-"

"Oh no, Enrique. I am not going to do your work for you again! Our tutor almost didn't believe us last time," Oliver reminded his friend before the request could even be made.

"_Almost_ being the key word! Please Oliver!" the blond pleaded. "I'll fail if this doesn't get written!"

Oliver sighed. "I'm sorry, Enri, but I don't feel right cheating again."

"What if I do your math homework for you?" Enrique offered.

"As nice as that would be, En, I think I should try to manage on my own." Before his friend could protest, the Frenchman spoke again. "I don't see why you can't do it yourself...you can be very creative when you want to be."

"It's not my fault!" Enrique exclaimed, trying to defend his...err...good name. "It's Johnny! He's been distracting me and annoying me ever since he wandered into that room!"

"Why don't you just ask him to leave?" Oliver wanted to know why the blond couldn't take this most obvious course of action.

"I tried! But he won't budge! He's too stubborn," Enrique answered, the frustration clear in his voice.

"Why don't you go and see if Robert will help you get him to leave?" The French teen suggested. "Johnny normally listens to him."

* * *

Enrique found who he was looking for in the library. He had no idea what the German was doing there—probably going over his family history for the umpteenth time.

"Aren't you supposed to be doing schoolwork Enrique?" Robert asked upon seeing the Italian.

"Yes, but-"

"Then what are you doing here?"

The blond sighed. "Johnny won't leave me alone and let me work in peace!"

"It's not that hard to ignore someone," the older teen pointed out as he went to return the book he'd been reading to its shelf. "I do it all the time," he added quietly.

Enrique followed his captain. "But you don't know what it's like! I can't just ignore Johnny—he won't shut up!"

"Then why don't you work someplace else?"

"I was there first!" Enrique exclaimed as though this were a perfectly legit reason.

Robert sighed and shook his head, disappointed by the reason that was, instead of legit, quite juvenile. "If you insist on staying there, then I'm going to have to tell you to either ignore him or find some way to get rid of him."

"I tried that! He keeps saying he won't bother me, but he is!"

The German was quickly getting tired of his teammate's whining and complaining. "I take it he started everything?" he asked in a bored tone.

"Yes!" Enrique answered. "Although maybe it was me that said something first...but he continued it."

"Enrique-"

"Can you please just make him leave?" the Italian practically begged. "I'll fail my class if I don't get that paper written!"

"Perhaps you should be working on it then—instead of procrastinating."

* * *

"I can't believe he kicked me out...and I can't believe he won't help me! Apparently he doesn't understand the gravity of the situation," Enrique thought angrily as he slowly made his way back to the small dining room. Mind you, Robert's idea of kicking someone out is saying 'please leave' in a harsh tone over and over until the person gets the hint and takes a hike. Although sometimes he has to add a few threats.

Maybe, by the time Enrique got back, the Scot would be gone. Perhaps he'd gotten bored with waiting and left. No such luck. The blond opened one of the double doors to his destination and entered, immediately spotting Johnny right where he'd left him: sprawled out on the red couch/bench.

Enrique shot the redhead a glare—which he didn't see because his eyes were closed. The Italian rolled his eyes and prayed that his teammate was asleep. The blond sat himself down and woke up his computer.

No sooner had he done this, when a little window popped up and told him Microsoft Word had encountered an error and needed to close. He was a little annoyed, yet a little grateful for the minor delay. At least, until he tried to open his document again. No matter how many times he tried, it just wouldn't open. It seemed Microsoft's error had been fatal. Then, rather suddenly, his laptop shut down without his consent.

The Italian let his head drop onto the keyboard with a loud 'clack'. He sighed. Could nothing go his way today? His thoughts turned to the possible reasons it could be broken, and landed on one in particular.

His head snapped up. "Johnny!" he shouted, an accusing tone in his voice.

The redhead opened his eyes and looked at him casually. "Yes?"

"What did you do to my laptop?"

"Why would I touch your stupid computer? I have my own."

"How should I know? You can't expect me to understand the way your twisted mind works...." Enrique shot a glare at his teammate, who sat up and glared back with double the intensity.

"I don't think you could even understand how your own mind works!"

Suddenly Enrique smirked triumphantly. "Well everyone knows you suck with technology, Johnny-boy."

"Shut up—you're just as bad as me!" Johnny said, his glare intensified, and Enrique could sense that the other teen was close to exploding. This didn't stop him from continuing his side of the argument though.

"No, I actually know how to turn it on."

"Do you want me to come over there and shove your freaking retarded laptop down your even more freaking retarded throat?" Johnny threatened, pronouncing the words carefully and venomously at the same time to make sure it sank in. He stood up and faced the younger teen, who also stood up, but only to hide behind the relative safety of his chair.

"Not really..." Enrique said. Then, not able to resist: "But if you're hungry, feel free." Soon after, he was forced to run for his life as the Scot lunged for him. Despite his current situation, the Italian couldn't help but laugh at Johnny—which probably wasn't a good idea. But he couldn't help it! He just found it oddly humorous today.

The blond managed to slip past the redhead and darted out of the room and down the hall. He heard the door crash and knew that Johnny was following him. He decided he might as well have some fun with this.

Retracing his steps from earlier, Enrique made his way towards Oliver's studio—greatly surprising the Frenchman who was (of course) still there.

Oliver 'eep'ed and pressed himself against one of his easels (thankfully there was no paint on this one) to try and avoid the chaos as much as possible. He watched as Johnny chased Enrique in a circle around where Oliver was standing twice. The small teen was astonished to see that his friend seemed to be enjoying himself. He was even more astonished to see that the Scotsman hadn't caught his prey yet. But then again, Enrique's legs were longer...so perhaps it did make sense.

The two moved past the easel, and Oliver peeked out from behind it timidly. There was a crash and he winced as several artworks fell to the floor.

"Enrique!" he shouted after his friend as he ran out of the studio, pursued by the angry Scot.

Enrique continued retracing his steps all the way to the library, which he entered as noisily as possible. By some miracle he was able to avoid hitting a dead end in his search for Robert. When he finally did find the German, he threw himself behind his captain. He guessed Johnny wouldn't go any further, and was happy to see that he was right.

"What in the world is going on here?" Robert asked, slightly bewildered by the sudden intrusion.

At that moment, Oliver entered the clearing of sorts in the library. "Enrique! Why did you have to come running through my studio?! You ruined _three_ of my paintings!" the Frenchman pouted.

"And why," Robert turned to face the Italian that was cowering behind him, "did you barge into my library?"

"_Because!_" Enrique took a deep breath. "Johnny went on a murderous rampage when I found out he broke my laptop."

"I did not!"

Once again Johnny lunged for the blond. Robert instinctively held out an arm to stop him.

"Whatever the case, I don't think all this disturbance was necessary," the German stated. "Both of you should apologize to Oliver. Then Johnny will help Enrique work on his assignment, using his own laptop."

"But that's not fair! I didn't do anything!" the Scot protested.

"You went after him," Robert pointed out.

"I was provoked!"

The captain shrugged this off. "Still, I think you should help him. And use your computer."

"And apologize..." Oliver mumbled subtly.

"I'm sorry, Oli," Enrique said as innocently as possible, earning himself a glare from Johnny.

"Yeah, sorry," the Scotsman muttered.

"I suppose I forgive you," the Frenchman said, sounding a bit like a snob, before turning on his heel and leaving the library—no doubt returning to his studio to repair the damage as best as possible.

"You two should get to work." Robert looked between Johnny and Enrique. "And Johnny, please try and mind your temper." The German walked off, deeper into the labyrinth he called his library.

* * *

Sooooo, there goes chapter one. This two-shot isn't the most amazing thing I've ever written, but bear with me as best you can. XP

I hope you enjoyed that anyway, although 'twas rather pointless...don't worry, the next chapter is even more pointless! Haha, it will be up shortly though.

Once again, I apologize for any mistakes! And for the lack of plot. XD

Reviews? I would love some.


	2. Brainstorming With Johnny McGregor

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! And also thanks in advance if you plan on reviewing to this one! :)

And, here is the second chapter. It's a bit shorter than the first, and has no real ending, but I hope you find it rather enjoyable just the same. XD

Full title: Brainstorming with Johnny McGregor Because he Refused to Admit that he Broke My Computer

Heheh. Wow.

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Beyblade. Still don't own Microsoft Word, either.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Stop smirking at me like that..."

"'Mind your temper'," Enrique quoted tauntingly.

Johnny growled. "If you want to have an accident with the guillotine, keep talking," he threatened his teammate yet again.

"Well that's not very pleasant of you." The Italian stretched as he walked. The two of them were on their way to Johnny's room to get his laptop. Then they would return to the small dining room where this whole affair started. "Thank you for helping me by the way," he said with feigned sweetness.

The Scotsman grumbled incoherently all the way to his bedroom. When they reached it, he went inside and slammed the door in his blond companion's face when the other teen tried to follow.

Enrique tried the handle. "Hey!" he shouted upon discovering it was locked.

Johnny stepped out a moment later, laptop in hand. "What?"

"I thought you were bailing," Enrique explained.

"Would I ever do that?" The innocence didn't sound right on Johnny's voice.

"No, never."

The two of them arrived at the dining room. Johnny entered and shut the door in his teammate's face once again. Enrique sighed and then followed him in, leaving the door open behind him.

"That wasn't necessary..." he muttered, wincing as the Scot tossed his laptop haphazardly onto the couch. "Careful!"

"I thought it was broken," Johnny stated, not bothering to fake innocence anymore.

The blond glared at him and reluctantly went to sit next to the redhead at the table.

Johnny turned his laptop on and slid it in front of the other teen. "Don't break it," he warned.

"Why would I?" Enrique asked, suddenly on the defensive.

"You still don't think I broke yours do you? You obviously broke it—you're the only one that ever used it," the Scotsman pointed out.

"How could I possibly break my own computer? And why would I do it?"

"Oh come on, Giancarlo. Everyone knows you hate doing work in any way, shape, or form," Johnny remarked.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I'd break my laptop just to get out of it!" Enrique exclaimed, getting annoyed with his companion—a feeling which he was sure was mutual.

"Maybe it does. How should I know? I like to think I'm as different from you as possible." The Scot crossed his arms and watched his teammate open Microsoft Word, nearly glaring at the defenseless computer screen.

"Oh you are, don't worry," the blond assured the other teen.

"Good."

There was a moment or two of silence, and both of them simply stared at the blank screen.

"So." Enrique sighed. "What should we write about?"

"First of all, _we _are not writing anything—this is your project. And second of all, why would I know what to write about?"

"Well you are supposed to be helping me," the Italian pointed out.

"So? Why do I care if you fail?" Johnny wanted to know, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on the polished table. Enrique felt the sudden urge to push him over.

"Fine then. If you won't help me, I'll just have to talk to Robert."

"Go ahead. He'll just yell at you for procrastinating."

Enrique glared at the Scot, who glared back before laughing and saying, "Just write your story so we can get out of here."

At that moment, Robert walked past the open door of the dining room. "Stop arguing and get to work!" he shouted without even looking towards the room.

Johnny jumped and put his chair back on four legs, pulling his feet off of the table as soon as he heard his captain's voice.

The blond snickered and Johnny smacked him upside the head. "Shut up!"

Half an hour later, the two were still sitting there, completely bored and fresh out of ideas.

"The problem is that all the good ideas are already taken," Enrique muttered. "Like wizards and spies and alternate dimensions...they've even already used a quest centering around jewelry!"

"Whatever you do, don't write about vampires that sparkle," Johnny warned. "People will hate you."

Enrique nodded. "Unfortunately, there's not much left to write about..."

"Then you better start thinking up some ideas."

"Yeah, and you better start helping me," Enrique retorted.

"No thanks. Besides, you're much better at making up stories than I am," Johnny said, crossing his arms behind his head.

"Why does everyone seem to think I'm a creative genius?" the Italian wanted to know.

"Gee, I don't know," Johnny said, his voice drenched in sarcasm as usual. "Maybe it's because you have a new reason every day for not going to your classes? Or maybe because you can always find a way to ditch said classes? Or perhaps it's your amazing procrastination abilities—you never fail to think of something else you'd rather be doing."

Enrique frowned. "That's entirely different!"

"Still," Johnny shrugged, "it shows that you have just as much creativity as everyone else. Now stop procrastinating and get to work."

"I'm not procrastinating," the blond muttered, trying and failing to sound indignant. "You're just distracting me."

"Nice try, but seeing as starting an argument with you would actually help you procrastinate, I don't think I'm in the mood to fight with you."

Enrique glared at his teammate yet again, and the redhead smirked at him.

"Fine," the Italian grumbled, turning back to his blank Word Document. "Probably just means he's run out of comebacks..." he said under his breath.

"We can't all be as creative as you and come up with an endless supply," Johnny reminded his companion sarcastically.

"I think we've already established that I'm not as creative as everyone seems to think," the blond reminded the redhead. "And I thought you said you weren't in the mood to argue?"

"Hm," the Scotsman grunted.

"You sound like Kai," Enrique pointed out.

"Shut it and get to work," Johnny commanded.

"Yep, definitely Kai..."

"If you don't stop talking and get working, then your head might accidentally get slammed into the table," Johnny threatened the other teen yet again.

"Ouch." Enrique raised his eyebrows. "Not felling very friendly today are you?"

"You have serious issues focusing don't you?"

"You have serious anger issues don't you?"

"I'm such a nice person, that I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. That's how much I want you to succeed on this project," Johnny said, sounding far too nice for this to actually be true.

Enrique frowned at him again. "Well that's awfully kind of you."

"You're welcome," came the still way-too-nice response.

The Italian glared at his teammate, and punched haphazardly at the keyboard, causing a random string of letters to appear.

"That's a lovely story," Johnny observed.

"You're not exactly helping you know," Enrique said.

"Yes, and you're not exactly trying!" the Scotsman countered.

"Maybe if you would stop-"

"I'm not distracting you!" Johnny insisted, knowing exactly what his teammate had meant to say.

Enrique simply let out a 'hmph' and crossed his arms, frowning intensely at the computer screen.

Johnny sighed. "If you want an idea so badly, why not just search for one on the Internet?"

The blond attempted to do just that, but Internet Explorer froze up before it was even open...and was apparently 'not responding'.

"Great job," the redhead said. He had given up on trying to sound nice. "Now my computer's broken, too."

"You told me to open it!" Enrique protested. "How was I supposed to know it would freak out on me?"

"Want an idea for your story? Why don't you write about an idiot that goes around breaking computers to get out of work!" Johnny suggested (sarcastically of course).

"Brilliant idea! Except that you forgot it has to teach a lesson!"

"All right then. The moral of the story is: Don't let dumb blonds near computers."

"You are simply hysterical! But I always imagined the main character with red hair."

"No, he's definitely blond."

"Redhead!"

"Blond!"

"Why don't you write it about two people having a series of completely pointless arguments that get them nowhere except for their captain's bad side?" Robert suggested, coming from seemingly nowhere.

"I think that was a run-on sentence," Enrique mumbled.

"And the lesson in that is...?" Johnny asked.

"You fail your English class and will be training the rest of your vacation. I will see each of you at six o'clock tomorrow morning." With that, the German turned and left the room.

"You had to ask?" Enrique whispered accusingly.

* * *

Blaaaaaah, pointless ending where nothing is resolved! When will I learn?

Ah well.

Robert completely owned them at the end. Never mess with your team captain.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed that! Even though I thought it was rather...I don't know...pointless? Plotless? All of the above? XD

Oh, and I suppose we shall never know who exactly broke Enrique's computer...my money's on it randomly spazzing. Ours is rather fond of doing that sometimes. XD

Review if you please?


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